Fifteen Years (15 page)

“We talk to her all the time,” Thomas said.

Josiah placed the photo back on the stand, and his eyes scanned others that shared the space. “Sure would have been good to see her. Last time I saw her, she was going off to college.”

Joanne laughed again, and then said, “Well, she graduated a long time ago, so you’re about to get that wish. I called her and told her that you’re here. She’ll be here any minute now.”

Snapping his face toward his parents, Josiah’s eyes widened. “Really? She still lives here?” This was just too good to be true. Getting the chance to reunite with his parents would have completely answered his prayers. Seeing the two siblings who shared the house with him for most of the years he was there was far more than what he expected. Josiah was reminded of Ephesians 3:20, which assured that God was able to do exceeding abundantly above all that was asked or thought of Him. The Scripture had never rang so true for Josiah than it did at that moment.

Joanne pulled his face down to hers and kissed him on the cheek. “Why don’t you go and wash your hands, baby. When Patrice gets here we’re going to sit down and eat dinner together just like old times.”

She pointed the way to the restroom, and Josiah ducked inside and closed the door behind him. He turned the faucet on full force, and knelt beside the bathtub. He decided that this would be a good time to thank God for His provision.

“Lord, thank You, thank You, thank You for bringing my
family back into my life. I can’t thank You enough. I know that I doubted You and Your direction, and I ask that You forgive me. Thank You for answering my prayers in spite of the way I second-guessed You. Please allow this to be a new start. Even after I leave and head back to North Carolina, let our bond continue to strengthen. Let our love for one another far exceed what it was fifteen years ago, and I’ll forever give you the glory for the things You have done. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.”

After thoroughly washing his hands, Josiah shut off the faucet and pulled a sheet of paper towel from the nearby roll. He almost used the paper towel as a glove to shield his hand from the knob as he reached to open it. Old habits die hard. He was in Thomas and Joanne Smith’s home. Normal precautions weren’t necessary here. Josiah tossed the paper towel in the trash can and freed himself from the confines of the restroom.

Sammy met him in the hall and gave him another bear hug. Josiah embraced him back, thinking to himself that if everybody in the world was autistic there might be a little more love and a lot less conflict.

“I can’t believe how tall you’ve gotten, man.” Josiah tossed a few playful jabs at his foster brother, and Sammy laughed. “You ready to eat?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “But Pa-Pa-Pa-Pa-Pa …” Sammy paused and blinked hard a few times.

“It’s okay. Take your time,” Josiah coaxed, remembering what Thomas had said.

Sammy nodded, took a deep breath, pointed toward the front of the house, and said, “Patrice here.”

“Is she?” Josiah stepped around Sammy and led the way into the living room. When he walked in, he saw Thomas and Joanne sitting on the sofa with just about the prettiest little girl he’d ever
seen. She sat quietly between them dressed in a white short set and was showing off an emerald green charm bracelet on her arm. She couldn’t have been more than five years old.

Joanne looked up, let out a theatrical gasp, and pointed toward Josiah. “There he is,” she said to the child. “There’s your Uncle JT. Go give him a big hug, Arielle. Go ahead.”

The pretty little girl batted her long eyelashes at Josiah and blushed at being put on the spot. Although she made no attempt to move from her seat and toward the stranger she’d never seen before, she didn’t cower away as Josiah approached either. With a closer view, the child looked oddly familiar.

“Is this …?” Josiah left it as an open-ended question, looking at Thomas, and then Joanne.

“This is Patrice’s daughter, Arielle,” Thomas obliged.

Josiah squatted in front of the sofa and extended a hand toward the child. After a moment of deliberation, she placed her small hand in his. “Hi, Arielle. I’m—”

“JT?”

The voice from behind him caused Josiah to cut his sentence short and turn. Using deliberate movements, he released Arielle’s hand and brought himself to his full height. Were his eyes deceiving him?

Josiah opened his mouth to speak, but his words were in no rush to comply. Flashes of the lovely songstress who took command of the choir stand reappeared in Josiah’s mind. The woman whose vocals had his arm hairs standing tall. The beauty whose physical makeup had held him in a perpetual daze. The songbird that had him searching through the church program for a name to match with her beautiful face. How had he not recognized his own sister?

“PEACHES?”

A large part of Josiah wanted the woman in front of him to laugh and reply, “No, silly. I’m her friend. She’ll be here in a minute.” But he knew that wasn’t going to happen. It was her. She looked a little older and a lot prettier … but it was her.

“Oh my goodness. Look at my little brother.” She reached up and grabbed him around the neck and hugged him tight. When Patrice pulled away, she scoped him from head to toe like she was trying to take it all in. “Goodness gracious. Time has been good to you, boy.” She capped it off with yet another embrace.

Time had been good to her too. Better than good. So good that Josiah tensed at the feel of her touches. A part of him wanted to push Patrice away from him and take off running toward the front door. Another part of him wanted to return her hug and hold her as long as she’d allow. But he did neither. All Josiah could do was
stand there with his arms dangling by his side and hope that his leg muscles continued to hold steady.

Patrice wore a tantalizing unidentifiable flowery scent that nearly made him dizzy with pleasure, and when she planted a kiss on his face, he was ready to throw in the towel and surrender to what felt a lot like brewing passion. In Josiah’s lifetime, no woman had ever had this effect on him. Well, except Eva Pigford, but that didn’t count. His emotions were running amuck.

Something wasn’t right about this. This was his big sister. He wasn’t supposed to be attracted to her, let alone yearn for her. And if he did, the hankering should make him sick to his stomach. Any decent man who found himself craving the passionate affections of his sister ought to be on the verge of vomiting. But all Josiah felt was desire. Strong, confusing, desire. There had to be a support group for sickos like him. Where was that raggedy prayer mat when he needed it?

Patrice released Josiah and looked at him with concerned eyes. “Are you okay, JT?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged, trying to shake off the temptation to pull her back to him and feel her soft cheek against his. “I … uh … I—”

“Look how tall he is, Patrice. I told you he was a tree.” Joanne’s interruption was a lifesaver, and with it, she had unknowingly rescued a drowning Josiah. “He must have shot up a whole foot since he left us.”

It was an overstatement, but not by much. Josiah had experienced a growth spurt during his last two years of high school. Between the ages of seventeen and eighteen, he’d grown five inches. Josiah had stretched a total of eight inches since they’d last seen him.

“You’re mighty quiet, JT.” Patrice scrutinized his hazel eyes
with her deep brown ones. “What’s wrong? I know it’s been about twenty years, but you don’t have to treat me like a stranger.”

But a stranger was just what she felt like. It was as though a different woman had come along at some point and invaded his sister’s body. Patrice had always been a pretty girl. The genetic makeup of her African-American mother and her Asian father had blended together to make her a cute, skinny Blasian in her younger years. But something had changed since Josiah last saw her. He remembered being fourteen and waving as his eighteen-year-old sister left for college more than fifteen years ago. But what he felt then was a far cry from what he was feeling now.

Though no longer rail thin, Patrice still had a slim build, and just like he last remembered, her brownish black, wavy hair cascaded past her shoulders and stopped midway down her back. Her boney structure had been replaced by near-perfect slender curves that seemed to audibly beg for Josiah’s touch. Every part of her body complemented the next. She seemed shorter than he remembered, but that was probably due to the fact that he’d continued to grow long after she’d apparently stopped. He towered her now by about six or seven inches.

“JT?” Patrice playfully slapped him on the arm. “You done got too old to hug me now or what?”

Josiah finally broke his stare. Her eyes were burning into his corneas like hot coals. He didn’t want Patrice to think he was alienating her, but what was he supposed to do? His emotions were out of control. Any warmth he returned would probably turn into something inappropriate. “I’m sorry. It’s just that… I’m just…” Words escaped
him. Jesus, help me.

“I think we’ve overloaded him,” Thomas joked with a hearty laugh. “He came here with only a smidgen of hope of even finding me and Joanne, and we’ve reunited him with the whole family.”

“Yeah.” Josiah stuck both his hands in his pants pockets and used two steps to put some much needed space between him and Patrice. “I’m overwhelmed. It’s just so good to see everybody.” He looked at Patrice and gave her the most genuine smile he could rally under short notice. He had to get it together … and fast. “Thanks for the compliment, sis. You look good too. And you’ve got a beautiful daughter. She looks a lot like you.”

Giving Arielle an adoring brush to the cheek with her hand, Patrice said, “Yeah. That’s my mini me.”

Josiah subconsciously scanned her hand for a wedding ring. When he didn’t see one, he chose not to ask about the whereabouts of Arielle’s father. “Does she have your lungs?” he opted to say. “I heard you sing at church, and I was blown away. I don’t remember you singing much back in the day.”

“Why don’t we talk over dinner?” Joanne interrupted. “We got a lot of catching up to do, and we might as well do it while we eat.”

Thomas patted his protruding belly. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

The chatter was placed on pause while the serving dishes were placed in the center of the table and everyone was seated. Josiah and Sam grabbed the seats on one side of the table while Patrice and Arielle occupied the two chairs on the other. Thomas and Joanne sat at opposite ends of the polished oak table that looked a lot like the one that they had when Josiah was a child living in their home. He wondered if it were one and the same.

As soon as Thomas blessed the food, the conversation picked up where they’d left off.

“In response to your earlier comment,” Patrice said, after downing several ounces of her fresh-squeezed lemonade, “I actually did sing when we were kids; I just didn’t do it in front of anybody. Too shy and too intimidated to take the chance of anybody hearing me, I guess. I know you remember the speech impediment that I had back then.”

It was the reason he called her Peaches. On the day he was brought into the Smiths’ home, he shook her hand and said, “I’m Josiah.” In response she mumbled what sounded like, “I’m Peaches.” He had called her Peaches for five minutes before Joanne walked in the room and told him otherwise. Frankly, Josiah thought Peaches fit her better, so he stuck with the nickname, eventually prompting everybody else to refer to her as the same. Patrice must have liked it. She never complained.

Josiah nodded with a half grin. “I remember the speech impediment. I see it’s all cleared up now.”

“The therapy finally paid off,” she said while tossing an appreciative smile at Thomas. “Being impeded and having to endure the cruelty that came along with it is what made me switch colleges after my sophomore year and transfer from Auburn University where I was majoring in business to LaSalle University’s School of Nursing and Health Sciences.”

Josiah didn’t see what nursing had to do with her speech impediment, but just as he was about to question her on it, Joanne jumped into the conversation.

She laughed aloud and clapped her hands together. “JT, you stayed in trouble for fighting the kids that picked at Patrice and the ones who picked on Sam too.”

Josiah’s grin widened at the recalled memories, and he swelled his chest for visual entertainment as he said, “That’s right. J-to-the-T used to whip some tail back in the day.” For added effect, he slammed his right fist into his left palm.

“Yeah, and then J-to-the-T used to get his tail whipped when he got home and his parents found out,” Thomas added.

“Guilty as charged,” Josiah said, “But when you really think about it, those were unfair spankings, Dad. I mean, I was only trying to protect what was mine.”

“Protect what
was yours?”
Patrice frowned and laughed at the same time. “What were Sam and I, your pets or something?”

Conversing with her was much easier from where he now sat. Josiah had purposely grabbed the chair that would put him in the space directly across from Arielle, leaving the chair facing Patrice for Sammy to sit in. He didn’t think he’d be able to sit directly in front of her without appearing as uneasy as he would feel.